Reviews
Fringe Comedy
Review by Stephen Phelan
Make sure you crawl out of the melee with a pass for Reginald D Hunter’s Show White Woman, which would allow you to walk away from the festival nourished, and with a faster-fading memory of whatever else you saw.
A lot of comedy is just sounds in the air, but Hunter gives us tenderised meat. He rips the commonplace face right of the assumed relationship between the black performer and a mostly Scots white-liberal audience, talking about sex and race directly, seriously, and with a strong sense of play.. He’s not scared to go minutes without a laugh, and when they come they’re the products of an exhilarating honesty, not the gasp giggles that some comics want to knee-tap out of you.
His raw stories about “out-f***ing” a bedroom racist and his drug buddy man-to-man epiphany aren’t told just to get a reaction- although the reaction could be described as kind of uproarious fascination but to genuinely say something. While you’re laughing your self-image is being knocked around inside your head. This is the most rewarding conversation available on the Fringe.
